


you're in a hammock with a beautiful boy

by angelica_church_schuyler



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Drabble, Inspired by Richard Siken, M/M, Prose Poem, The Hammock (IT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_church_schuyler/pseuds/angelica_church_schuyler
Summary: You're in a hammock with a beautiful boy, and you're too close and too far away.You're in a hammock with a beautiful boy, and you could reach out and touch him but you can't.





	you're in a hammock with a beautiful boy

You're in a hammock with a beautiful boy, and you're too close and too far away.

He's laughing, at something you said or at something you did or at you, and his eyes crinkle and your heart stops.  
He's looking at you now, and his eyes are big and deep and brown and you don't want to say they're beautiful because other boys don't have beautiful eyes or beautiful _anything_ but God, his eyes are pretty. 

He smiles, and he's your best friend. He's your best fucking friend.

He turns away from you, leaning out of the fabric fortress you've built around yourselves to pick up some pill or other, and even after only a second you miss his eyes, and you realise with a sickening, shining jolt that his hair is curling around his ears.

You tell him. You shouldn't have, but you did, because you never think, and sometimes you think too much.

He's explaining now, something about not letting his mother cut his hair anymore so it's getting kinda long and it gets curly when it's longer and he ruffles his hair self-consciously and you think you might die.  
You _know_ you might die.

He lies down again and you're looking at each other. You're not smiling. Neither is he.

You've known him your whole life. You've seen him at birthdays and Christmas, his grin emanating light, and at funerals and early morning Mass, his natural glow stifled under a heavy dark mist that you think maybe only you can see. You've seen him at school, at the beach, at carnivals and in sewers, tending to injured friends and screaming and yelling in the face of his biggest fears.

You've never seen him look at you like this.

His hair is curly, and his eyes are brown, and he's beautiful.

* * *

You're in a hammock with a beautiful boy, and you could reach out and touch him but you can't.

He's making a joke, blue eyes shining behind lopsided glasses.  
You're laughing way too hard, especially considering how fucking bad the joke is.  
You can't breathe. You can't breathe, and that's normal but it's still scary. But if it meant lying here next to your best friend, too close and too far away, gasping for air and catching glimpses of his eyes and his glasses and his freckles every few seconds then you would happily suffocate.

You really can't breathe though, and as you lean down to get your aspirator he tells you that your hair's curly.

Your mother hated it. She said it looked messy. Curls had to be reined in, she told you, tamed, like a disobedient child.  
You finally told her you didn't agree, and it took you 14 years but you did it. You told her you didn't want her to cut your hair anymore and she screamed and cried like she always did but you stood your ground even though you couldn't breathe.

It wasn't very long ago and your hair is still pretty tame and you didn't think anyone would notice.

He did.

He _noticed,_ and you don't know why you're surprised because, well, hasn't he always?  
He notices your hair and your eyes and that there's a hole in your second fanny pack that you need to patch up. He notices when your mom is getting on your nerves, and when your nerves are getting the better of you. He notices your terror, your deep-seated despair. Your slightly wavy hair.

He notices you, and he sticks around you anyway.  
He notices you.  
And, for the first time, you notice him back.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this, the weird love child of my richard siken obsession and my IT obsession!  
[You Are Jeff by Richard Siken](https://genius.com/Richard-siken-you-are-jeff-annotated) (skip to stanza 24 for the bit that directly inspired this)  
[come say hi on tumblr!](https://theonewherelaurynhasablog.tumblr.com)


End file.
